Proof of My Life
by South Puerto Rico
Summary: ((Puerto Rico is my OC)) A young Puerto Rican girl and her older brother, Alfred F. Jones tries to take care of her despite the fact he knows she's going to die soon.


The snow fell in thick sheets down from heaven to the bland and cold earth. The snow was adding some color to the world as now it went from bleak, gray, and lifeless, to bright a bright, shimmering, white with splashes of Green, red, blue, and silver. It was a windy day and as puffs of sparkling white snowballs continued to fall and pile up, a weak and coughing girl watched them with an observant eye from her tiny, toasty room. Every little gorgeous snowflake reminded her to smile and hope to one day be strong enough to go outside. Ever since she became sick and ever since the very start of fall up to deep winter, which was now, she had only grown worse. At first it was just headaches. Then it was awful migraines. First it was sore throats. Then it was feeling like she had set her whole throat on fire. At first it was just a sickness, then it grew to a full on life-threatening disaster.

The girl still smiled though. Why, you may ask? Simple. Her older brother. Her sister. Her friends. All of them were the only thing keeping the Puerto Rican girl happy. Family and friendship was extremely important to her, and it was why whenever a friend or brother or her sister would visit, she would still giggle and smile and act like her old self. The girl herself was named Jelianys Miranda Moreno. She had tan skin, dark chocolatey hair, sparkling brown eyes, and a pair of glasses that sat at the bridge of her nose. Her hair was curly, extremely curly, and all came down in luscious, coffee colored, curly piles down to her shoulders and just a tiny bit more. Plus she had a piece of hair connected to her bangs that stood up on the side of her head.

"Sis, what are you doing up?" a usually loud voiced, but now quiet-voiced man asked. The girl looked away from the window over to the culprit of who had interrupted her quiet time. Lets see, American accent. Blond hair. Sky blue eyes. White skin tanned through the California sun. A stubborn cowlick sticking up where his golden hair parted. This was Alfred F. Jones, her older brother. Despite the fact they looked nothing alike, were almost always fighting, and had virtually no huge and loving connection, they were still brother and sister. They still loved each other, even if the sister could never admit it or wrap her head it, and would do anything to protect one another.

"H-Hola...hermano..." Jelianys's weak voice tried to reply. Over time, she began to loose more and more of her voice and it grew harder and harder to talk or sing, and Jelianys loved to sing. Alfred tried to smile brightly like he usually would, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he repeated his question. "Why are you up? You should be resting."

"I can't sleep...and I'm thirsty." She coughed.

Alfred nodded. "Okay...I'll get you something to drink." He began to turn to leave when he heard his sister manage to squeak out, "Alfred, where's my sister?" The sister she was speaking of was the youngest one of the family, Camilia. She was about two years younger than Jelianys, making her 16, but acted as if she was 12. She had Jelianys's curled brown hair and tan skin, plus even had similar features. Except she had a piece of hair connected to her bangs that stood up and stayed in place on the TOP of her head, rather than the side. The two of them were straight from an island known as Puerto Rico, where they were adopted by a Spaniard when they were little, but were taken away from him and were given to Alfred instead when the girls were around teenagers. Why? Most likely it was because of Child Protection Services, since the parents that adopted them were never around and their older brother at the time, Antonio, would sometimes get drunk or not be able to fully protect them. The service instead shipped them over to America where the two of them were given to a loving family. Well...loving to an extent. The parents died in a car crash about 3 years after taking in Jelianys and Camilia. The only one who could take care of them was Alfred.

Oh Joy...

Alfred wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, or the brightest student, or the finest tool in the shed...or anything. But he was hero with a big heart, and that's what counted! Right? Right...?

Alfred looked back at his younger sibling and gave a reassuring wink. Camilia, despite being much younger, was a very trustworthy girl who, being the sensitive girl she was, couldn't handle the fact her sister was going to die; therefore she was vacationing with her friends in New York City. He explained that to her with a soft voice then left, leaving Jelianys in her room alone.


End file.
